All posts tagged adult virgins

New Years’ is a time for change, and one of things I plan to do in 2012 is to take blogging from being a hobby to being a career. After playing around with this blog for nearly two years I decided it was time to get serious, and finally got it registered under its very own domain.

So why the name change, you may ask? Why did I go from “Miss Daphne’s Blog” (missdapnnesblog.wordpress.com) to “Virginity’s Voice” (virginitysvoice.com) instead of using missdaphnesblog.com as the domain name? Well, besides the fact that the name “Miss Daphne’s Blog” doesn’t give the casual observer a clue as to what this blog is about, I simply felt that the name no longer fit.

When I created this blog nearly two years ago I did it on a whim. I called it “Miss Daphne’s Blog” because I’m Miss Daphne and this is my blog — real creative, isn’t it?! I didn’t know what else to call it since I had no particular vision in mind. It started out as an online journal. Gradually, however, it began to take on a life of its own as I delved into the part of my life that concerned my Virginity. Over time, “Miss Daphne’s Blog” evolved into something altogether different. It became more than a just journal and it was no longer just about me as I realized that a lot of people could relate to my experiences as a Virgin.

By the end of 2011, I decided to give this blog a major overhaul starting with a new domain name that would officially make Virginity the central topic. In other words, this will no longer be an online journal. I will continue to deliver the same quality of writing but I will focus less on the trivial details of my life such as my job, my cat, or what I did over the weekend — and more on issues and stories that impact all people living as Virgins today.

You can expect to see many new features and additions to this blog in 2012, and I hope that you will come back often to witness its continuing evolution!

I entered a three-year period of self-pity and self loathing over my virginity, and I experienced a growing sense of panic the closer I came to my 30th birthday. Losing my virginity seemed easy enough. I knew that all I had to do was put on some skimpy outfit, walk down to the nearest bar, and pick up any guy that was interested. No relationship would be necessary because I was in a hurry. A one-night stand would do just fine. All I wanted was to have sex, fast, before I was 30, so I could join the human race. The problem with this plan is that it never even made it out of the thought stage. My mind tried hard to sell it, but my heart wouldn’t buy it. I don’t know how other women do it — but there was no way I could have ever gone through with it.

Inevitably, my 30th birthday came. I went around in a haze for much of that year not knowing quite what to make of things. But after I realized that the sky had not fallen in, the sun still rose everyday, and the seasons still changed… I gradually began to come back to my senses. I was a 30-year-old virgin. I would just have to accept it. I would also have to accept that I was different. I was not like other women, and I was not what society defined as a “woman.” Society defined womanhood as something you would see in a commercial for Victoria Secret. Being a woman, society said, meant being sexy and free with your body. It meant having sex with numerous men — and the more sexually experienced a woman was the more womanly, mature, and strong she was supposed to be. And it’s not just the media that communicates this message. In the everyday world of women you are expected to be sexy to get a man and to get all the sex you can out of him… and if you play your cards right in bed, you can get money, a wedding ring, or both. If you are not doing this you are not a real woman. This, in so many words, is what mothers tell their daughters, it’s what girlfriends tell their girlfriends, it’s what just about any woman will tell another woman.

Knowing that I could not meet these expectations and that people would not look upon me as a “real woman” really hurt. It made me feel small, inadequate, and inferior. On the other hand, accepting who I was very liberating. I finally felt at peace because it was such a relief to let go of those expectations, and there was no longer that pressure to try to live up to something that I could never live up to. I no longer had to try to be something that I was not, could never be, and really didn’t want to be.

I realized that during that period of anxiety about turning 30 and still being a Virgin, I had been at a crossroads. Everyone comes to a crossroads in life where they must choose the path they want to follow and the type of person they want to be. My choice had been between staying a Virgin or becoming promiscuous. I had chosen to stay a Virgin. Yet deep down I still felt that it was time to move on… but to what? I knew that promiscuity was not an option, but I also knew that I couldn’t go back to being a “virgin-in-waiting”. I had mentally and emotionally outgrown the “true-love-waits” scene and the whole idea of pre-marital abstinence. But, even though I was no longer waiting for my prince to come — I would continue to wander aimlessly down the road of abstinence until marriage, for whatever it was worth at that point, because it seemed to be the only viable option for remaining a Virgin.

I left elementary school looking forward to having a normal high school experience. So I was very upset when I ended up at an all-girl Catholic High School. I had wanted to go to a Catholic co-ed high school across town, but my parents wouldn’t have it because they said that it was too far and not as good. Obviously, I had wanted to go to the other school because it had boys. I was not fast like some girls who could pick up boys on the street after school and on weekends. I knew that if I did not come into contact with boys in my day-to-day environment, it was likely that I would not date. I was right. I didn’t even go to prom mainly because I did not have a date. So aside from continued bullying, my high school years were uneventful.

By the time I got around to dating in college I discovered that it wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be. The “relationships” I had never came to much. Guys just couldn’t accept that I would not have sex with them, and before long… they would dump me, or I would dump them.

When I entered the working world at 25, I started to question my beliefs about the Bible and Christianity. So many things that I had been taught no longer made sense to me… but then, but I suppose they never really did. I had never belonged to a church. My mother had been open-minded in allowing me to make up my own mind about religion and never imposed any beliefs on me as a child. But I considered myself a Christian because I had been raised in a Christian culture and it was all I knew. I tried to renew my faith. One day, I decided that I would read the Bible from cover to cover to get a better understanding of its teachings. But I had barely started reading Genesis before I put it down even more confused than when I started. And so, I decided that I would no longer be a Christian. I did not see the point of going along with something that I could not fully accept just because other people said it was right. The way I saw it, I was doing Christianity a favor by staying out of it. There were already too many people who call themselves Christians that don’t believe in or practice anything that the Bible says, not to mention those that make up their own version of what is clearly written in the scriptures. People like that, in my view, did nothing but bring the church down. As for me, I would rather be an honest non-believer than a bogus “saint.” At least I had the integrity to admit that I was a non-believer and move on to a religion that I could fully embrace as there are Many paths to God.

I may have left Christianity but I still maintained a strong belief in God, and my search for another belief system led me to the New Age Movement. I started reading books on New Age philosophy and the ancient spiritual traditions of my African ancestors. I didn’t agree with everything the New Age Movement advocated either, but unlike Christianity that said “IT’S THIS WAY OR THE HIGHWAY” — New Age spirituality was flexible.

A couple of years later, I began to have doubts about my virginity. Now that I was older I began to question the logic of this vow that I had made so many years ago. I had made the vow to remain a Virgin when I was a Christian, and now that I was no longer a Christian what was the point of keeping it? Everything that I had ever seen about Virginity or Chastity had described it as “a religious thing,” and more specially, “a Christian thing.” Keeping your virginity was portrayed as something that was only for Christians — not people like me. If I was no longer a Christian, I thought, shouldn’t I be having sex? There was nothing to keep me from it now. The vow I had made was a Christian vow that no longer applied.

Besides, I was getting too old for this abstinence stuff, I thought. People who promote abstinence tell you to “wait” for this fairy tale to happen about some prince who is supposed to be your “true love” coming along and making you his bride before you can have sex. It’s easy to believe in when you are in your teens and early twenties and marriage seems just over the horizon, right after college. But as you grow older and there is no prospect of marriage in sight, the abstinence fairy tale only seems to become more and more of a joke with each passing year. I mean, there I was 27 years old and still as pure as the day I was born. I wondered if I was normal. Society said that I should have lost my virginity ages ago, and that if I didn’t lose it before 30, I would certainly be abnormal. I decided that sitting around waiting on a prince that wasn’t coming because of a Christian vow that was no longer relevant was foolish and that it was time to move on. I decided it was time I lost my virginity.

It was the 1980’s. I was 12 years old and in sixth grade. My classmates and I were all beginning to experience the changes that come with puberty. The boys sexually tormented the girls at every available opportunity. They would grab the girl’s breasts or behinds as they walked by them in the classroom or in the halls, look up their skirts as they walked up the fire escape after a drill, and try to lure them into isolated places to kiss them.

Today, this would be called sexual harassment and would be grounds for the boys to be suspended from school or their parents to be sued, but back then it was just “mischief.” If the teacher knew about it, it wasn’t taken seriously since nothing was ever done about it. And although the girls pretended to be upset they weren’t entirely innocent. They egged the boys on and played along with everything that happened. There were even a couple of times when the tables were turned and the girls sexually harassed the boys. And what the girls did was considerably worse than anything that the boys ever pulled. I just looked on. I never got involved and I hardly had to worry about being bothered as I was the class nerd, a total outcast, and not on anyone’s hot list.

Sister Martha, the school principal and Mother Superior at the convent next door, was a very patient woman but had a hard time containing her growing outrage with the immature sexual antics of kids too young to know what they doing. The last straw came one day during recess. I don’t remember exactly what happened, but apparently the boys had done something that finally crossed the line. I was standing alone by the wall as usual, so I was not involved with whatever had happened when whistles started blowing and all the supervisors came running toward a group of kids huddled together at the center of the playground. The group was broken up, and Sister Martha shouted at the supervisors that recess was over and get the kids inside. It was not time for recess to end but we were driven off the playground and herded into the classroom where we were made to be quiet and put our heads down with the lights out.

A few minutes later, Sister Martha came in, and she was not pleased. She proceeded to give us a talking to that would turn out to be a defining moment in my life. I’m paraphrasing here, but what she said went something like this: “What happened at recess was unacceptable! It has come to my attention that this sort of behavior is becoming a problem and it must stop! I realize that you are at that age when you are becoming curious about sex and your bodies but there is a thing called self-respect. Sex is meant to be something special shared between a man and a woman who love each other within the bonds of marriage. When you treat it as something cheap you not only devalue what is meant to be holy but you also devalue yourselves when you treat your bodies so carelessly. God wants what is best for you and your virginity is a gift from God. The thing that would please God most is for you be respectful of yourselves and to stay pure until you are married… because your body is the most beautiful gift that you could ever give someone.”

I remember that last part word for word. It was a revelation! And at that moment, at 12-years-old, I vowed that I would remain a Virgin until I married. It was as simple as that. There was no Virginity pledge, no purity ring, no T-shirt, no bumper sticker. I never told anyone about it. I didn’t even tell my parents and they never knew. It was just a private affair between me and God.

People who would try to find a reason to explain why I and other Virgins are Chaste would say that it is because we were “brainwashed” by religion. Nonsense! You may be able to manipulate some kids for a while and have them to superficially go through the motions of being abstinent, but you can’t change who and what they are inside. You can teach kids about abstinence but no one can be made to be Chaste that was not already intrinsically Chaste to begin with. This is why abstinence education has no effect on the average kid and why the majority of Virginity pledges don’t last. Looking back, I realize that I have always been Chaste. When I used to go to the convent next door to the school for reading lessons I found myself fascinated with the life there and I had a closeness with the nuns that the other kids did not. Sister Martha’s speech just the nudge that was needed to start me down a path that I unknowingly was already on. There must have been thirty other kids in that classroom that day who heard the same speech. I have run into some of them over the years and whenever I did they would always tell me about this or that girl who had got pregnant before finishing high school. I’m probably the only person out of the class who still remains a Virgin to this day.

If I had to pick a point to start my story from, I would start from when I was just beginning to confront the facts of life. My journey as a Chaste Virgin began when I was in elementary school. I had received a Catholic school education pretty much from kindergarten all the way through high school. I never attended a public school. My parents were not Catholic. My mother belonged to the African Methodist Episcopal (AME) Church and my father was Baptist (or so he said). I went to private schools where religion was taught because my parents felt that private schools offered a better education than public schools. Yet, religion was never something that my parents imposed upon me as a child. This was deliberate on my mother’s part because she wanted me to “have my own mind” and believed that I should be free to “make my own decision” about what church I should join, so I didn’t get much religion at home. But because I attended a Catholic school where I was very deeply immersed in the teachings, rituals, and practices of the Roman Catholic Church, I felt Catholic even though I come from a Protestant home.

After my parents, the adult role models and authority figures in my life were the nuns, priests, and monks that regulated my daily life. Society may view lifelong Chastity and those who live in it as strange or abnormal, but you tend to see it differently when you grow up around it. Growing up in the Catholic school system, Chaste people were an everyday part of my life. The principal, administrators, and a many of the teachers at my schools were nuns (I had one administrator that was a monk); and every other day the whole school would attend church services where the priests performed mass. I never questioned why the nuns and priests were not married and had no children, and neither did anyone else. In Catholic society lifelong Chastity was taken for granted, especially where the clergy was concerned, and no one thought anything of it. And I certainly wasn’t paying attention to such things in those days, because like any “typical” tween girl the only thing that I was concerned with was the latest clothing styles and whatever pop singer was at the top of the music charts.

And for the record, I was not sexually abused. I have absolutely nothing dishonorable to say about any priests or nuns that I knew, and nothing unfortunate to speak of involving any children that I went to school with. My childhood experience with Catholic priests and nuns was positive. And it was here that I was first introduced to the concept of sexual purity starting me out on what would eventually become my “calling” or the path which I would be oriented to follow in life.

I used to think that Perpetual Virgins were a myth until I found out I was one. When I was growing up I imagined that I would have just a normal life. I would marry, have kids, and live happily ever after. I never set out to follow a Chaste path. But when I look back over my life in retrospect it just seems to be a natural fit, and I feel as though I am doing exactly what I should be doing and living the life that I was meant to live.

As corny as it sounds, I always knew that I was somehow different. This was something that I knew since the earliest days of my childhood. I never belonged. Other kids acted like kids; they were loud, rowdy, and rebellious. I, on the other hand, was very quiet, bookish, and mild-mannered; and it was often remarked by adults that I seemed mature beyond my years. While other kids tried to fit in, I followed my own rules. I did not mean to be different. I just didn’t see the point in going along with something just for the hell of it, especially if I didn’t agree with it, or knew it was wrong. So I did my own thing, and I was totally oblivious to what anyone around me thought. As far as I was concerned — who I was, was who I was. It never occurred to me that I should change or try to be like others. I guess you could say that I was a true nonconformist. But in the cruel world of kids where the nail that sticks up will be pounded down, real nonconformity is not popular or cool, and I paid a brutal price for it. I was teased and picked on without mercy from the time I started grade school up until the time I finished high school when I hung up my graduation robe, took my diploma, and never looked back.

The fact that I am different from other people I know has never been about any one particular thing as there are many sides to who I am. But the reason I am writing this story, and the reason that you are reading it, is to specifically look at how I as a Virgin came to embrace Chastity as my sexual orientation and/or sexual preference. It certainly wasn’t something that I just woke up one day and decided on. It’s a place that I gradually arrived at over the course of my entire lifetime, and I will reflect on this journey in posts to come.

It was bound to happen and it finally did. Last night on Glee, Rachel, the show’s most prominent Virgin character, lost her Virginity.

In this episode, Rachel was cast to play the starring role of Maria in the school production of West Side Story. During rehearsal Artie, who was put in charge of directing the show, criticized Rachel for supposedly “not having enough passion” to accurately play the part of Maria. West Side Story was a play about “sexual awakening”, he said, and he made a speech about his own “sexual awakening” and how he “felt like a man” when he lost his Virginity. Assuming that everyone had sex, Artie asked Rachael what it was like for her when she lost her Virginity. When Rachael said she hadn’t, Artie bashed her asking how could she expect to play the role of a sexually awakened woman when she hadn’t done the deed herself. (Since when did Artie become a n expert on sex? He only got laid once!) At that point, Rachael, who always strives for perfection, decides to have sex with her on-again-off-again boyfriend, Finn, in order to improve her acting. After some drama surrounding her first botched attempt to get in Finn’s pants when she admits to him that wants to screw him mainly to improve her acting… Rachael ends up having sex with Finn by the end of the show having assured him that she really does “love” him.

I am just sooo done with this show. I used to like it, but I’ve really gotten tired of it. I was ready to bail after last week’s show, but when I saw that this week’s episode was going to have Virgin subject matter, I hung around figuring it would make a good topic for my blog. But now I can officially say that last night’s episode will be my last.

So why has Glee lost its groove for me? In short, I’m tired of being offended. I’m especially tired of the hypocrisy of a show that claims to be about tolerance but is only tolerant of those who are in the pop culture clique. I’m tired of being told that, as a Virgin, there is something wrong with me that needs to be fixed. I am tired of watching Virgins being pushed into lockers, insulted, humiliated and misrepresented as if it’s OK.

I knew before this week’s episode even aired that Rachael would probably lose her Virginity. She nearly lost it in the “Like a Virgin” episode when Finn lost his and I though it was unlikely that they would miss the mark a second time. There’s just no way that they would allow the main character in one of TV’s most popular shows to remain a Virgin. As for Glee’s other Virgin characters, their days are numbered too. Emma Pillsbury is already living with Mr. Schuster. And after anti-chaste Artie made an issue of Coach Biest’s Virginity last night, he went out of his way to hook her up. It’s only a matter of time before the other shoe drops but I won’t be there to see it.

Yep. Halloween is here again. It’s that one time of the year when women can dress like sluts without being called sluts — men can wear makeup without being called gay — and children can act like monsters without being scolded. Halloween is a time for breaking rules. It’s a time when you can violate every social standard for what is considered to be “acceptable” or “appropriate” and get away with it because it’s all in fun.

One of the best things about Halloween are the costumes because they allow you to openly express that socially incorrect side of your personality that you repress the other 354 days of the year. That’s why slutty, bad girl costumes, for example, are so popular. Being called a “slut” is the ultimate insult for most women, and social standards define any woman who acts out in an overtly sexual way as a “slut.” This is bad news for women that like sex because it forces them to repress who they really are for the sake of social acceptability. But on Halloween, social standards go out the window. For one night, women can embrace their inner “bad girl” and dress as “slutty” as they like — and it’s perfectly acceptable (as long as they’re not underage) because it’s all in fum.

So what can I be for Halloween that would allow me to express some of my inner qualities? There are so many sides to my personality that I could be any number of things. But the one I choose this year is…

Boop-boop-a-do! This is as close as I personally come to being a “bad girl.” Though Betty Boop is pretty tame compared to a lot of what’s out there, being Betty Boop for Halloween would give me a chance to express my more provocative side. I love men and I enjoy being flirtatious. This is not something that I can easily express on a daily basis because (1.) People think that being a Virgin means being asexual and to show any sign of having a pulse is to be accused of not being a Virgin at all. (2.) Warm-blooded though I may be, the last thing I want is sex, and being a flirt, even an innocent one like Betty Boop, may give guys the wrong idea.

But I’m not going to worry about that for now. After all, It’s just a costume. And in the spirit of Halloween, it’s all in fun.

“If you gave your man/woman a 24 hour break from your relationship,” a radio host said on a station I was listing to, “and told them that they could do anything they wanted sexually with someone else, would your man/woman have enough game to get laid in that time?”

I rolled my eyes.

These pop music stations can have some pretty dumb topics on their shows. Most of them are about sex: popular culture’s never-ending obsession. This particular segment which asked “does your man/woman have enough ‘game’ to get laid in 24 hours” got me thinking though. Popular culture likes to portray Virgins, especially adult Virgins, as people who don’t have “game” (game being slang for the ability to seduce somebody). Popular culture says that the only reason someone over 18 would be a Virgin is because they’re too ugly or geeky to get laid. Nonsense!

There is no such thing as the inability to get laid for someone whose standards are low enough!

Adults who are Virgins are Virgins because they want to be, whether they realize it or not. People who are inclined to be sexually active but have not yet done so are holding out because they want their first sexual experience to be special. They want their wedding night to mean something — or they at least want to find someone they love, and who loves them in return, to lose their virginity to. They are not looking for cheap thrills.

The stereotypes about who gets laid and who doesn’t simply don’t hold up. Despite being portrayed as undesirable losers, many Virgins are very attractive, highly successful, and extremely hip. Nick Jonas is a Virgin, and with thousands of screaming girls chasing after him, no one can say that he lacks “game”! He just chooses to abstain. And despite being portrayed as the “in-crowd” there are non-virgins that are so bad-looking, gross, and obnoxious that you wonder how they ever got over.

If a Virgin woman really wanted to have sex all she would have to do is dress like a street-walker, walk down to the nearest bar, and pick up any scumbag in the room. And a Virgin guy that wants to lose his Virginity simply has to find a street-walker. Some will go with you for as little as a pack of cigarettes.

Anyone can get laid. Anyone at all. If they are willing to lower their standards and lower them far enough.

“I respect your opinion, but with all due respect I have to disagree with you,” I told Bob.

Bob, who I met in an online Virginity group, had said that the solution to the problem of anti-Virgin bigotry and bullying and that was “simple” i.e. Virgins should stay in the closet.

“If anything,” Bob said, “it allows us the breathing space to stay Virgin without anybody knowing” and giving us a hard time about it.

Honestly, I was not going to post what I said to Bob next because when I read it back it sounds so overwrought it’s a little embarrassing. It’s just that I have some very strong feelings about this and when I get on my soapbox I tend to really rant. Was what I said over the top? You be the judge.

“I think that lying about being a Virgin does show, maybe subconsciously, that you are ashamed of it. Here’s my perspective… I don’t go around publicizing my Virginity in my offline life because at the end of the day what difference does it make? My sexual identity has nothing to do with my ability to perform a job, or with being a good friend, or a loving family member. But there is a difference between not publicizing who you are and lying about it. I don’t go around with “VIRGIN” tattooed on my forehead, but if someone asks me if I am a Virgin (which the people at that job I talked about did) I certainly won’t deny it.

I consider myself to be a strong person. I have never been particularly concerned with what other people thought, and I think that people who let other people’s actions and opinions influence how they live their lives are making a big mistake. I think that the boy who killed himself was misguided and the one that raped his sister was nuts to begin with. I only told these stories to point out how intense the hatred out there is and to say that sexually abstinent people must be more vigilant in defending their rights. Our politically correct society bends over backwards to show tolerance for every other sexual group, what makes us a special case? Are we any less human than other groups of people? Are we not entitled to the same rights and considerations as they?

You may choose the path of least resistance, but for me lying is not the way to go. I choose to fight. The reason I walked away from that job where I was experiencing the sexual harassment was because the job sucked, the pay was lousy, and it wasn’t worth the trouble of a lawsuit. But I will fight anyone that tries to bully me into conforming because I love who I am and I see no reason to deny it. So I’m not going to pretend to be someone else and I’m not going to go somewhere and hide. People can say and do whatever they want — I can take it and I will fight back.”

OK… Maybe that was a little bombastic, but I meant every word of it. No problem was ever solved by running away from it. And if we truly want the bullying to stop WE — not just me — but WE as Virgins and as a community must stand up to the bullies. I have taken the first step by opening the conversation. What step will you take? Will you fight too, or will you be like Bob?

“I’m just into being peaceful and clever,” he replied. “There are enough wars out there, and my method doesn’t stop me from comfortably being who I am. That way, if I give them enough rope, they hang themselves.”